


Whipped

by Anonymous



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Porn Battle, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whipped

**Author's Note:**

> An old pwp, written for porn battle back in 2011.

She'd certainly had a lot to say earlier, but she'd been quiet all through dinner, and he told himself to consider himself lucky he'd been allowed in the apartment at all. Even if she wasn't exactly speaking to him right now.

She was, however, expressing herself in other ways.

"So you're not mad any more?" _BANG._ "Because you seem mad." _CRASH._

She left the dishes alone then. Lucky for the dishes.

"Okay, so you're mad," he said.

"I'm mad at myself," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her movements rough and jerky. "I know what you're like. It's not like you aren't always doing stupid, reckless, dangerous things. I should have left a uniform with you to make sure you stayed put. I could have left you with Ryan on the perimeter."

He frowned. "We're a little past that. We've been past that for about a year, and besides all of which, you're not responsible for my actions, Kate."

"But I am responsible for your safety in the field, Rick."

There she went again, as if they'd just met and he was still some wet, untested, rookie... writer... guy. Instead of what he actually was. Her trusty sidekick. Her partner. Also her lover, but this was work stuff so it was probably better not to go there or things might get _really_ complicated. It still burned, though.

"But you're not mad at me," he drawled. "Right. You know, I think I prefer it when you _are_ mad at me. Why don't you yell at me some more? We both know you enjoy it."

"I enjoy watching you stumble blindly into dangerous situations and almost get yourself killed? Really." She stared at him, jaw set.

"I'm fine."

"You got shot."

"It grazed my ear. Barely. And don't think I don't want to throw up a little."

"You did throw up."

"A little."

"Then you cried."

"I did not cry!"

"Then you ran around looking for a mirror while putting in a call to your plastic surgeon because you might have been permanently disfigured, which, putting aside for a moment the fact that you _have a plastic surgeon -_ "

"Golfing buddy! I told you that already."

"I told you to stay behind me!" she exploded. "I always tell you! And do you ever listen? God! Of all the foolish, irresponsible -"

"See? Yelling. And don't you feel better now, instead of beating yourself up?"

Her renewed rant cut off midway, she just glared at him.

"Seriously, though, Detective," he moved closer, rounding the counter, as his voice dropped lower, "If someone needs to be punished, I am willing - very willing - to make myself available to you. I have been a very bad boy." He bounced his eyebrows at her, added a suggestive leer.

At the very least, it was supposed to make her laugh.

It did not do that.

Her anger, previously on the ebb, was now back with reinforcements.

She nodded slowly as she came to a decision. She spread her hands. "Okay. All right, you want it, Castle? You got it. Get over the table."

"Hm?"

She pointed. "Bend over the table, Castle. Now."

"You want me to...?"

She didn't give him another chance. Crossing the distance between them in two long strides, she grabbed his wrist and shoulder and brought him round to face the kitchen table.

With practised ease she had him over the table, one arm twisted behind his back giving her plenty of leverage to hold him firmly in place without hurting him. He wasn't putting up a struggle, though, too surprised by the manoeuvre.

"Can I ask what is happening right now?" he said, voice high and a touch panicky, face plastered to the surface of the desk.

"What's happening, Castle? You said it yourself - you've been a bad boy. Now, _I'd_ say this was gonna hurt me more than you, but I'd be lying."

"You're really going to spank me?" His voice cracked and Beckett let out a short laugh.

"Come on, we both know you've been asking for this - sometimes literally - since the day we met. And man, it's going to be sweet," she purred, her hand sliding down over the curve of one ass cheek. His whole body tensed, waiting. Then suddenly the weight of her holding him down was gone as she straightened and stepped back. "God, I knew you were all talk, Castle. You pretend to be all kinky but you and I both know when it comes to the bedroom you're just as vanilla as the next overgrown manchild."

"Vanilla, are you kidding me? I'm about to come in my pants here!"

That gave her pause, and her hand moved around his hip to investigate the front of his pants. She found him easily. He was hard as a rock. "Huh. Well how about that."

Her hand moved lightly over him and he groaned. "Do not doubt for a second I am not up for it. As you can tell I could not be more up for it. But if you want to skip ahead to the groping part I'm right there with you."

"Oh no, don't think you're getting off that easy."

"Ooh detective, you know I love a good play on words."

She laughed. "You have no idea how long I've wanted a piece of this." Her hand briefly left his crotch and delivered a sharp slap to his right cheek, prompting a yelp from Castle. A wide smile crossed her face. "Oh yeah. This is going to be fun."

Her hand moved back around between him and the edge of the table, but this time went straight to his belt buckle, which she unfastened without preamble.

She drew the belt out of its loops with a firm tug and Castle jumped in surprise. "You're going to spank me with my own belt? That is so hot."

"Keep talking, Castle. Just keeeep talking."

Her hands worked swiftly to get his pants down, his shorts too, bunched around his knees.

"I feel... oddly exposed," he said, folding his hands contemplatively under his mouth as he continued to stare at the tabletop from one inch away. "I think I like it."

"Okay, scratch that. Stop talking, Castle. And stay put."

She didn't give any warning. The belt whipped neatly across his ass, leaving a line of fire in its wake.

He jumped. He let out a yelp.

It wasn't like she did this every week - spanking a man's bare ass while he lay prone across her kitchen table was in fact entirely new to her. But she was actually finding the experience extremely satisfying.

"Don't forget my safe word is 'apples'!" he burst out quickly, face screwed up tight in anticipation of the next blow.

She paused, arm raised. "Are you saying it?"

"No no no no, hell no, no, you know I don't even _like_ apples. And that wasn't me saying it, either, I was just -" his babble was cut off as the belt snapped his ass again.

"Man that stings!" he squeaked. He cleared his throat. Craned his head back over his shoulder to catch her eye. "So is this going to be one of those things where we take turns or -"

_SNAP._

"Okay, that's fine, I'm good like this!"

_SNAP._

"I'm going to assume it won't bring me any lower in your estimation if I go ahead and cry like a little girl?"

She leaned over and grabbed his ear, just below the band-aid covering today's war wound.

"Okay! Little boy! Like a little boy, geez."

"See I'm just not getting a lot of humility from you, Castle."

She raised her arm and let the belt fall sharply again.

"Are you serious? I've got my - ow! My bare butt in the air, turning what I can only imagine is a becoming shade of rosy red. I've got humility coming out my a-HA-ha-hm. Ow."

She spanked him some more.

She spanked him till he was silent. Till he just stopped talking. Till he was gasping at every fall of the belt, hands flexing futilely at the flat surface, mouth hanging open and eyes shut tight.

And then she set the belt aside and lay her palm on his back, edging up under the shirt tail. He sighed, relaxing under her touch as she stroked lightly up and down his spine.

He shifted then, but she didn't want him to move yet, so she held him in place with her body, leaning over him to rest her chin on his shoulder while she reached under him and took hold of his cock.

It took about thirty seconds. She jerked him quickly as he bucked into her touch. He spilled over her hand with a groan that sounded like it was wrenched from somewhere deep down inside.

She pressed kisses to the side of his damp, sweaty neck, rubbing his back and sides and whatever she could reach as he zoned out for a bit on the high of his orgasm.

Then he was talking again. "Up. Up, I need to get up, can I get up now?"

"Oh, yeah. You okay?"

She straightened quickly, and he came up with her, whipped round to face her and then his hands were deep in her hair and he was dragging her mouth to his, kissing her furiously. She only needed a second or two to catch up and then she was kissing him back, matching him for every frantic motion as their mouths worked hungrily and their hands moved, grasping and pulling at clothing and skin.

After that there was a stumbling hurry to get across the apartment to her bedroom while getting naked at the same time. They made it through the door just as he managed to peel off the last sock and she dropped her tank top to the floor while kicking her panties off one ankle. He straightened in time for her to angle him towards the bed and shove. He hit the mattress hard.

He jumped right back up again.

"Okay! And there is no way I'm on the bottom this time. Or any time for the next... two," he palmed his sore ass thoughtfully, "Possibly three days."

She unclipped her bra and let it drop from her arms. Naked, she took him by the arms and walked him round till it was her backed up to the bed; her pulling him down after her till she was spread beneath him, limbs curling up around him as his weight sank into her.

"Better?" she grinned up at him.

"Much." He kissed her. "Much better."

"Good. I mean, it's not like it matters how we do it..."

"Of course not."

"It doesn't matter if I'm smacking your ass or on my knees, sucking your cock."

He groaned in wordless approval, burying his head in her neck. He loved it when she talked dirty.

"Because you'll always be on the bottom."

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. Then he stopped suckling the end of her collar bone and lifted his head. "Hey?"

She dug her heels into his ass, making him yelp.

"Hey!"

"That's what I thought," she said smugly, and tugged him down for another kiss.


End file.
